Chapter 15
Innocence and Innuendo
? When She Comes Home Tonight - Riley Green
Jaxon
I made a big mistake. Huge.
Living with Callie Cooper is pure fucking torture.
She’s everywhere—little pieces of her existence strewn here and there.
Sticky notes and a pen with teeth marks on the end lay on the kitchen counter.
A Pride & Prejudice coffee mug has been washed and deposited on the drying rack.
An adult coloring book is spread open on the coffee table with a set of markers nearby.
Even her scent lingers long after she’s gone, like a constant reminder of where she’s been and not been.
All I want to do is drag her to my bed and have my way with her.
It’s a constant battle of wills between me and my self-control.
I’m hard. All. The. Time.
Even now, she’s sitting in the armchair next to the fireplace, reading some book about a duke, with Atticus stretched out across her lap.
She strokes his fur like she’s a cartoon villain and he’s her sidekick.
It’s not inherently sexy, and yet here I am, unable to look away. She’s a living, breathing temptation.
She moves around quietly, as though she’s trying her best not to take up too much space.
The same can’t be said for Atticus, who likes to make his presence known loudly and assertively.
When she’s at work, he spends his days curled up at my feet under the mahogany desk in my office.
I gave in and set up a box down there with a blanket inside.
I even have a stash of treats in my desk drawer.
If my brothers find out I’ve become the cat’s bitch, I'll never hear the end of it, but it’s nice to have the company.
She flips the page and laughs, breathy and melodic.
It’s not just the sound that has me transfixed, but the smile that spreads across her face and wrinkles her nose.
She glances up from her book, and for a fleeting moment, that smile is directed at me.
My breath catches in my throat. Callie is always beautiful, but when she lets her guard down and forgets to fake it, she’s downright breathtaking.
I cross my arms over my chest and lean against the wall. “I was thinking about ordering in. What do you like on your pizza?”
“I'm not picky.”
Atticus hops off her lap and saunters over, circling my feet.
He’s a slut for attention, but I don’t mind.
My thoughts travel back to two years ago, when she said all she ever wanted for her birthday was a cat.
I wanted to find a way to get her one right then and there, but Callie’s nothing if not self-reliant.
It seems she didn’t need my gift after all.
She somehow found the most co-dependent cat I’ve ever met.
“Great. So, you’re good with onions and anchovies?”
She scrunches her nose. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
I crouch down to scratch Atticus behind his ears. “I’m joking. Now give me your real answer.”
“Meat lovers?”
I smirk.
She lets out a resigned sigh. “Don’t say it.”
“Just this once.” I mime zipping my lips. “I'll call it in.”
Callie tosses the untouched crust into the pizza box. Taking great offense, I gape at her. “The crust is the best part.”
“How is that the best part? There’s nothing on it.”
I snatch it from the box and dip it in the ranch cup, taking a large bite. “Gino’s isn’t just any pizza. They use garlic butter and grated cheese on their crust.”
She stares at me in disgust. “At least swallow before you talk next time.” As soon as the words are out, her face falls. “Don’t.”
“I didn’t say a word.” I smirk around another bite of my pizza. “But if you don’t want me to call you out, maybe you should stop being such a dirty girl.”
She balks. “If you think that’s dirty talk, you need to get out more.”
“Are you questioning my abilities, Callie baby?”
“I’m just saying you clearly can’t discern innuendo from the real deal.”
So, I was right. She still has no idea who I am or how we’re connected.
I lower my voice to a gravelly tone, similar to the one I use online. “Is that a challenge?”
Her gaze dips to my lips for a fraction of a second. “Do your worst.”
“One thing you should know about me”—I whisper seductively—“is I never back down from a challenge. If you gave me one shot, just one night with you, I’d ruin you for all other men. I’d fuck you so good, nobody else would ever compare.”
She bites down on her bottom lip, and a flush creeps up her chest and into her cheeks.
“I'd make you feel so good. You’d come over and over until you begged me to stop, then I'd wring another orgasm from you just so I could taste you one last time.”
I stand and brush my hands over my jeans. “Something like that?”
She blinks rapidly and clears her throat. “Um. Yeah. Not bad, I guess.”
I chuckle and head straight for my room without letting on how the interaction affected me, too. I’m rock hard and aching for release at the mere thought of having my mouth on her. The barest touch from Callie could set me off.
In the privacy of my room, I unzip my jeans and release my throbbing cock. Someday I’ll have her beneath me. For now, it’s just me, my hand, and every goddamn fantasy I’ve ever had about the woman sleeping across the hall.
Callie
A dull ache settles between my thighs as Jaxon leaves me behind on the couch. What the fuck was I thinking, teasing him like that? Hearing him say all of those things, whether he meant them or not, has me wound up and aching with need.
I clean up the leftovers and head straight for the bedroom in search of release. If I can’t have Jaxon, there’s another cowboy I can rely on to help me with my little problem.
I’m halfway down the hallway when I hear Jax call out for me.
I head toward his room, the door cracked open just a sliver.
I peer through the opening. Jaxon is seated at the far end of the bed, shirtless, with his muscled back to the door.
His silhouette is illuminated by the moon’s soft glow streaming through the curtains.
My breath catches as the muscles in his upper back ripple, and his right arm makes quick back and forth movements. He lets out a low groan.
The dull ache turns to an all-out throb as I watch Jaxon get himself off. I shouldn't still be standing here, but I can’t help myself. I slide my hand beneath the band of my shorts and lightly touch my swollen clit. A moan almost slips free, but I stop myself.
Why is this so fucking hot?
I’ve become accustomed to watching a man get himself off, but nothing could’ve prepared me for how downright filthy it would be in person. I can’t see much, but just the thought of Jaxon fucking his fist has my skin prickling.
He works himself faster, and a light sheen of sweat gathers along his back. I move my hand in perfect time with his, imagining what it would be like to have his hands on me. I want to see more, but there’s no way to get closer without him seeing or hearing me.
“Fuck. I'm gonna come,” he says in a gruff voice. “Take it, Callie baby. Swallow it all down like a good fucking girl for me.”
I gasp at the sound of my name on his lips, and my orgasm washes over me like a tidal wave crashing against a rocky shore. A whimper slips free unbidden.
Jaxon grunts, and his movements still, his head thrown back. He lets out a ragged exhale and shifts on the bed.
I move swiftly, trying to get away. In my haste, I stub my toe on the baseboard outside my bedroom, yelping.
Jaxon materializes behind me, and I freeze. Maybe if I stand still enough, I’ll suddenly become invisible.
His lips ghost over the shell of my ear, and I shiver. “Did you enjoy the show, Callie baby?”
Heart pounding in my chest, I rush to my room and slam the door, but not before I get a glimpse of Jaxon’s smug grin.
After the door closes on whatever the fuck happened in that hallway, Jaxon’s self-satisfied expression replays on a loop in my head.
It’s truly disgusting how beautiful that man is.
To my utter dismay, not even a scalding hot shower eases the mortification.
I need advice, but who the hell can I talk to about this?
I love Mo, but I can already hear the ‘I told you so’ coming from a mile away.
That leaves one option. I pull out my phone and shoot off a text to Olivia, hoping she’s not already in bed for the evening.
Callie: Help. I need advice.
Olivia: Tea or wine?
Mutual masturbation probably calls for wine, right?
Callie: Definitely wine.
Olivia: Meet me at my place.
I tiptoe out of the bedroom like a thief in the night, glancing between rooms. Luckily, there’s no sign of Jaxon anywhere, and I’m spared the humiliation of another awkward run-in. When I make it to Olivia’s place unscathed, she meets me on the front porch.
“Thought you’d never call,” she says with an air of amusement. “Let’s go sit out back by the fire pit.”
Olivia leads the way through the house, stopping in the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine and two glasses. She’s effortlessly stunning, with her voluminous blonde hair piled on top of her head and a thin sheen of clear gloss accentuating her rosy lips. I can see why Wilder is obsessed with her.
I take a seat in one of the Adirondack chairs around the blazing fire, watching the embers dance in the stone circle.
She hands me a glass and brings hers to her lips as she takes the chair next to mine. “So, wanna tell me what happened that made you send out a distress signal at eight o’clock on a Thursday?”
I wince, pinching my lips together. “Shit. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Girl, that’s not at all what I meant. It’s just that you’ve never texted me this late, and it’s usually book club-related. To be honest, I’m glad you reached out. If I’m not doing mommy duty, I’m surrounded by men. It’s exhausting.”
“How are the girls?”
“They’re great, and you’re deflecting. Tell me what happened.”